by S. M. Butler
He rolled it on and paused as he looked down at her. She was laid out before him like a buffet, one he’d have gladly spent the rest of his life exploring. He’d have moved heaven and earth so she’d continue to look at him through those half-hooded eyes that looked like they were on fire.
He traced his fingers down her inner thighs, listening to her soft whimpers of pleasure and watching the way her body tensed for him. Her heat glistened with her previous orgasm.
“You’re more beautiful than I ever imagined you would be. Like a masterpiece.” He almost didn’t want to touch her again. He committed every inch of her to his memory, every fold of skin, every freckle. Her chest rose and fell as he inspected her. Her nipples were rosy and erect, just waiting for his mouth.
He pressed her knees out, splaying her open to him. She was so wet and ready, and he loved how she bared herself to him.
“So fucking gorgeous,” he whispered.
“Please, Chris. I need you.”
God, how could he deny that? He used his finger to part her folds, sliding his finger through her sweet sugar. Then he added a second finger, thrusting into her. As tight as she was, she’d have to adjust to him.
Her eyes fluttered closed as he positioned his cock at her entrance, sliding the tip into her. “Open your eyes, babe.”
Her eyes flew open. Jesus, he loved her eyes. They tended to change color. He remembered the clear green when he had rescued her five years ago, but now they swirled between blue and green, like a tropical ocean.
He hooked her legs over his shoulders and leaned forward, pressing each inch into her. She moaned and he stopped. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Yes. More.”
Slowly, he worked into her, thrusting slow and easily, letting her body to adjust to his. Then suddenly he was all the way in, and he held himself there, the sensations so delicious he was afraid if he moved, it would all be over.
Her legs fell from his shoulders, but she hooked them around his back, pressing him closer. He groaned. “You’re killing me.”
“Keep going,” she whispered.
Slowly, he pulled almost all the way, then thrust in gently. He kept that pace, watching her carefully for any reaction. Her eyes never left his, not until he couldn’t help himself and took her mouth in a primal kiss. He was nearly at the edge of his control and he didn’t want to scare her.
She moaned into his mouth, crying out for more even as he kissed her. He increased the tempo, thrust harder into her. An animal woke up inside him, growling and hungry for more. Her body arched up to meet him with every stroke, then he felt the change. She got slicker, her walls burned around his cock, convulsing and squeezing as she climaxed.
He couldn’t hold back anymore. He balanced on his elbows, his arms around her, his hands tangled in her hair as he drove into her over and over. He buried his face in her neck, surrounding himself with the scent of her until his climax ripped from him. His entire body tensed, his back arched and he roared with a forcefulness that matched the strength of that climax, then he felt the ripple of her second sudden orgasm as she screamed out his name.
The two collapsed to the bed, him still on top of her. He wasn’t sure how much time passed. Seconds. Minutes. Hours. His heart continued to pound in time with hers and his breath was still in short, exerted gasps.
“Holy shit,” she finally gasped out. “What the fuck have I been missing?”
He chuckled and lifted up to his elbows. He brushed her sweaty hair from her face and kissed her. “To be fair, I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard in my life.”
He finally managed to lift all the way off her, moaning as he left her warmth, and managed to toss the condom in the wastebasket in the bathroom. He came back, flopped on the bed on his back, then slid his arm around Abigail and pulled her to him. She was pliant, and easily curled up next to him.
Her fingers danced across his chest absently. “What does this mean for us?”
Chris glanced down at her. “I don’t know, Abigail. It’s hard to say what the future holds for us. But we’ll make it work.”
“And your boss? You’re not supposed to talk to people from your old life.”
He swallowed. He didn’t want to think about that. He wasn’t going to be able to let Abigail Lewis go when this was over. He didn’t want to. He’d take any punishment Nathan wanted to give him if it meant he could keep Abigail like this forever.
Chapter Nineteen
Chris dozed off within minutes of them curling up together. They had a few hours before they were to leave and Abigail’s stupid mind wouldn’t stop whirling. She slipped out of bed and slipped on her bra and panties, then grabbed his shirt and a pair of boxers. Her clothes were folded neatly on the dresser. But somehow, she liked the way his clothes felt on her. And they smelled like him.
She slipped out of the room and glanced around. No sister or sister’s fiancé around. She stepped over to the window. She didn’t see them outside either. She didn’t feel right standing in his apartment when they could walk in at any moment. Plus, they had things to discuss. She would just be in the way.
She blew out a breath and quietly left the apartment. There was a chair outside his door, which she hadn’t noticed before. Did he ever sit outside his door and watch the world? Inside her gut, homesickness rolled for the first time. Not that she missed a man that would hold her prisoner but she missed thinking she had a family.
Chris and his team wanted her to lead them straight to her birth family, one she never knew she had. Monster or not, she wasn’t sure she could do it.
“Aren’t you supposed to be inside there?” Abigail jumped as she heard Jack’s voice. She whirled around and he was pointing toward the door to Chris’s place. “Outside isn’t really safe for someone like you.”
“Like me?” She snarled the words.
“Pretty little princesses.”
“He had company.”
Jack’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of company?”
“The family kind,” she replied.
“Huh,” Jack said. He grabbed her arm. “Come on. You can’t stand out here by yourself.”
“I’m not going with you.”
“Listen, Pippi, I get that you’re attached to pretty boy in there. But you’re no good to us dead. So, you can walk on your own into the garage over there, or I can throw you over my shoulder and carry you over there. Your choice.”
She glared at him, wishing she had laser eyes at that moment. “I’ll walk.”
“Good choice,” he replied. He gestured for her to walk in front of him. She reluctantly did, slowly making her way back to the garage. When they entered the empty waiting area, Jack motioned for her to sit. “You can wait here for now.”
“Fine,” she replied. He growled—actually growled—and left her alone.
Minutes ticked by and still, she was alone. She hadn’t been alone since she met Chris and for the first time, it made her heart race and her palms clammy. In the garage itself, she saw another man working. He was Hispanic, with shoulder-length black hair tied haphazardly into a ponytail at the base of his skull. He wore an olive green t-shirt speckled with dirt and oil from working, revealing almost entire sleeves of tattoos on his arms and dirty beat up jeans that had more holes than fabric. Old worn and scuffed combat boots completed his outfit.
He seemed at home with the cars inside, though there were only two in there at the moment.
“That’s Axel,” Bea said as she entered. “He’s the local mechanic.”
“I thought… I mean, I thought Chris was.”
“We all work here,” she replied. “But Axel isn’t… He doesn’t know what we do.” Her ebony eyes narrowed and Abigail resisted the very strong urge to shrink back from her. “It stays that way.”
“He won’t hear it from me,” she told Bea. “I hardly understand it myself.”
“Good,” she replied, the scary glint in her eyes vanishing in a soft inaudible pop. “You about ready to go?”
“I heard,” the woman replied. “Can’t say it surprises me.” Abigail didn’t get a chance to ask her what she meant. Bea turned and vanished, and Abigail was left alone again.
She took a breath and slid into one of the chairs. But before she could lose herself in her thoughts, something slid along the back of her neck, her hairs prickling to a stand. She glanced around but saw nothing, but she couldn’t stop that nagging feeling that she was being watched.
Axel was still working in the garage. Bea was nowhere to be found. Neither was Jack. Surely they wouldn’t just leave her there. Jack said she was no good to them dead. Which meant they needed her.
She was supposed to lead them to Jean Giroux.
She stood up, glancing at the working Axel. He didn’t seem to notice her as she stepped toward the door. She glanced out the glass door into the world. The town had yet to wake up, so the streets were mostly deserted. She had a clear view of the town square from where she stood. The sun warmed away the cool night air. The birds glided from tree to tree, some chirping softly as the world began another day.
Slowly, she pushed the front door open, sliding out and letting the door shut on its own. She glanced over at Chris’s apartment. The door remained shut, no evidence of the family drama within. She had to admit, she was just a tad jealous. He had a family that loved him and he couldn’t have them. She could and had no family, not one person that cared about her. For one man, she was a tool, a weapon. For another, she was a forgotten idol, a simple artifact that had been taken from him and he wanted it back. Both were willing to kill to possess her.
What was it like to have someone who cared so much about you that they were willing to show up unannounced just to make sure you were okay? She walked toward Chris’s apartment and stopped after a few steps. She stood between Hawk’s Automotive and the apartment building. She had no business walking back in there. That wasn’t her family.
~*~*~
A feeling of warm slime slid over her. She hugged herself, a shiver passing over her even in the heat of a Texas morning as the slime turned to ice. She wasn’t sure what it was she felt, but she didn’t like it.
She glanced down at herself as her fingers brushed the soft fabric of the t-shirt she wore. She’d forgotten to change before she’d made her escape from the apartment. What kind of message did that send to people that she stood outside in bare feet, wearing Chris’s t-shirt and boxers?
She didn’t care, she realized. They could judge her all they wanted but she was her own person, maybe for the first time in her life.
Something grabbed her hair, and yanked back, exposing her throat. She tried to move away, but the glint of silver as her attacker brandished a knife close to her throat had her still. He yanked her violently back against his chest. “Miss Lewis. It’s good to see you again.”
Pure fear pounded inside her veins, turning them to ice as it passed through her.
No. They’d found her. What was worse was she knew the voice.
“Let go of me, Brad.” Her voice came out shaky and flat, not at all the confidence she was trying to convey.
A guttural laugh erupted from him as his fingers fisted tightly in her hair. “Let me think about this… No.” Something trickled down her neck. He’d cut her. Not deep. Maybe just where the tip pierced her skin, but the blood slid down her throat like a slimy snake.
How had they found her so fast? She’d left Galveston two days ago.
“I’m not going back.”
The knife disappeared and an iron fist clammed on her upper arm, holding her as he whirled her around to face him. A few days ago, she’d left him pants-less, phone-less, and screaming after her. Now, he was eerily calm, completely in control. His blue eyes had darkened since their first meeting. His jaw set firmly and determined. She had to wonder what her father had done to him. He no longer looked like the jock driven by his dick that she’d tricked. How many days had it been? Three? Four? She couldn’t remember. Not long. Yet, the man that looked at her was completely different than the man that had there that first day she’d broken free.
“The senator would like to see you.” The voice that rumbled forth was just as eerily calm. He yanked her alongside him as he headed toward the back of the garage. She glanced wildly around at the dead silence of the morning before she realized no one had seen them. She pulled back, but he lifted a gun from his shoulder holster and pointed it directly into her rib cage. She stiffened. “Walk.”
She let him pull her for a second, paralyzed by the appearance of the gun before her better senses took over. She tried to pull away, but his grip tightened on her arm. “You can’t kill me. He needs me.”
“You’re assuming I care,” he replied. “We’re going to talk a little first before I return you to where you belong.” A black SUV was parked behind the garage, facing out toward the road that led out of town. Her heart pounded. He wasn’t just here to collect her for her father. He was still upset about what she did to him.
If she got in that vehicle, she had a feeling she’d never be seen again.
She twisted her arm uncomfortably, trying to break his hold but he didn’t get go. His hold tightened which was where she wanted his focus before she used his tight grip to leverage herself as she swept her leg behind his knees.
He pulled them both to the ground, refusing to release her, but the force of the impact released his grip on her. Scrambling to get to her feet, she tried to run, but he grunted and grasped her ankle, pulling her back down. Her thighs scraped against the concrete painfully as he pulled her back. “Get back here!”
She let out a frightened shriek as he pinned her to the ground, his hand holding her neck down so she couldn’t struggle. Tears filled her eyes, completely involuntary as the cold barrel of his gun slid along her cheek. “If you’re going to kill me, just do it now.”
“Not up to you, sweetheart,” he replied.
“How about me?”
She briefly saw the flash of a body before the weight lifted off her. The crash against something metal forced her into motion, flipping over to a sitting position. Chris collided with the man, their big bodies locked together in a lethal dance in front of the SUV.
She glanced to the side, saw Brad’s fallen weapon and picked it up. She aimed it toward the fighting pair, but she couldn’t fire it. What if she hit Chris? She’d never forgive herself.
The gun was yanked out of her hand easily. She yelped as she turned to face her new attacker. Jack stared down at her, his face twisted into an angry snarl. He grumbled something she couldn’t hear and aimed the weapon at the two fighting. Before she could stop him, he fired two shots and everything went still.
He lowered the weapon and his gaze swept over her, obvious disgust in his expression. “Little girls shouldn’t play with guns.” He walked away, toward where he shot. She turned just as Chris stood up, breathing hard, and his face and clothes bloody. She wasn’t sure if it was his or the other guy.
His eyes swept over her, checking every inch of her body before he turned to Jack and nodded. Jack handed him the gun, grumbled something, and walked away. Chris’s eyes snagged hers, the adrenaline storm still raging in his eyes. He stepped closer to her. “We need to get you somewhere safe. Seems your father isn’t that far behind.”
Suddenly, a fist slammed into the side of Chris’s jaw. His head snapped to the side, his eyes rolling up into the back of his head. The weapon flew from his hand with the second blow. Abigail whirled around, facing the new attacker.
He was dark-haired, dressed in a decent suit. No tie and the collared shirt’s first couple buttons were unbuttoned, showing off the swirl of a tattoo she couldn’t see. A long thin scar broke the lines of the tattoo. “My apologies for startling you.” The thick French accent poured from his lips. He was quite familiar with the English he spoke, but it was obvious he didn’t speak it every day. He smiled, but it looked more like a grimace. “I’m he
re to retrieve you. For your father.”
“You go back to Senator Lewis and you tell him to go fuck himself.” She told him, courage she didn’t know she had pumping through her veins, hot and ready.
He laughed. “Not him. Your real father.”
She stared at him. He could be lying. But there were only a few people that knew who she was, where she came from. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“I understand your reluctance,” he said. “My name is Claude. I’m here to protect you.”
“That’s funny because so is he.” She pointed to the unconscious Chris. Any minute now, she wanted him to wake up and rescue her again. But he didn’t stir. How hard had he hit Chris?
“People like him,” his nose wrinkled in pure disgust, “do not protect people like us. Come with me, and I will take you to your father. He’s anxious to have you home with him.” His dark eyes slid over her. “More of the senator’s men will be here soon. They won’t be as hard to fight off as one man.”
“You’re lying.”
“I am not.”
“How did he know I’m here?” she asked.
“Inside source.”
“How did you know I was here?”
The man grinned. “We used our own inside source in their organization.”
Lovely. So the strange French man spied on her father’s men who had a spy here. Did Chris know? Was Chris that guy?
No, even as the question came up, she squashed it. Chris was loyal to a fault. He’d promised to protect her. He wouldn’t falter on that promise. He couldn’t. It wasn’t who he was. That left the rest of his team.
“Aren’t you even curious about the man you were stolen away from? The man who helped to give you life?” He held out his hand. “Come.”
Wasn’t this what they wanted her to do? Go to Giroux, flush him out for them? She had a prime opportunity to walk right up to him. They hadn’t been sure how she’d make the approach. Now they had one.